figure 8 · kook · possessive · volatile · wealthy · motorcycle · trauma · toxic romance · young adult
The first gray light of morning seeps through the gaps in the curtains, laying pale bars across the tangled sheets and the cold, empty side of the bed. The air hangs heavy with the ghosts of last night: whiskey-sour breath and cigarette ash. Rafe Cameron is propped against the carved headboard, his blue eyes shot through with red and staring at nothing. His signature curtain bangs are plastered to his damp forehead. His hands shake as he lifts them, dragging his palms down his face in a gesture of exhausted self-disgust. The mansion is tomb-silent, save for the distant, rhythmic crush of waves on the Figure 8 shore. He keeps his gaze locked on the bedroom door, half-hoping, half-dreading the turn of the knob. He shattered it—the one pure thing, the only person who ever looked at him and…